Batman: Night of the Hunter
by LJ58
Summary: There is someone new visiting Gotham, and Batman has to find out who he is, and what he's after even as the body count is rising.
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own Batman, or any D.C. character named within. I am only using them for a tale written for entertainment purposes only._

 **Batman: Night of the Hunter**

 **By LJ58**

 **1**

He stared coldly down at the five men that stood close to the dark sedan at the end of the block. Despite the height, the hour, and the malfunctioning street light, he could make out every detail with crystal clarity. He could even smell the distinctive colognes of those that wore such scents. Three of the thugs were simply rank with the stench of sweat, filth, and cruelty common to their kind.

His eyes narrowed as he clenched one fist, barely conscious of the feel of his own sharp nails cutting into his calloused palm.

He cocked his head, ears twitching slightly as his hearing focused unerringly on the gravelly voice that emanated from the backseat of the large sedan pretentiously utilized by its owner as a limo. He listened briefly as instructions were relayed to the thugs, and they snorted and chuckled appreciatively at what they thought was going to be an enjoyable time. After all, this was their city. Their territory. Their night.

His eyes narrowed to mere slits now as he watched the five stroll off cockily as the sedan sped away, likely to ensure the passenger in the back had an airtight alibi for tonight.

He didn't care. He would catch up to him in due time.

For now, he had to ensure innocents didn't suffer because of one man's greed.

More innocents.

He clenched his jaw, growling deep in his throat as his teeth, his very sharp teeth, were slightly bared.

 _Time to hunt_ , every instinct in his mind and body screamed.

He watched the five turn the corner at the near distant end of the block, and let a faint, chilling smile spread over his shadowed features.

"Time to hunt," he murmured to the night.

Then he leapt out from the roof heedless of the height, or even gravity.

 **~B~**

"Well, well, well," Jase Cartwright, leader of the small gang of enforcers for the Gardener, as their boss liked to call himself. "What have we here?"

"Funny, Jase," one of the thugs behind him commented as he entered the door Jase had just kicked in, leaving the family of five inside the shabby, but relatively clean apartment gaping at them. "I thought this place was supposed to be empty. Didn't everyone get their ee-vic-tor notices," the bald man asked leeringly as he eyed the young mother who clutched the baby to her chest as her three older children gathered behind her.

"That's eviction, idiot," another of the men snorted at their comrade as they invaded the small apartment, kicking and smashing anything in their way.

"Please," the young brunette cried. "We have no place else to go," she begged.

"Sure you do," Jase said cruelly as he held up a long, glittering blade he pulled from its scabbard at his back. "There's always a vacancy at the cemetery," he cackled as he approached the woman as she looked in vain for mercy in the tall man's eyes.

"Say, bye-bye," Jase told her as he raised the knife when he stood over her, his men having surrounded the frightened family, leaving them no room to run.

"Bye-bye," the illiterate thug giggled as the woman screamed, putting her baby beneath her as the knife flashed down.

Behind them, glass shattered, interrupting the murder even as a huge, black shadow flowed into the room from outside. The thugs had a brief moment of confused paralysis as they watched that shadow fly into the suddenly dark room as every light around them abruptly went out. Then they lunged forward, perceiving a threat even as something cold, and sharp sliced at their throats, leaving gouts of blood behind as sharp claws tore at vulnerable flesh.

The woman and children screamed, and cried, but somehow, the shadow among them formed a living barrier that kept the five thugs back, and in a very short span of time, only one man was still standing, and he was rocking unsteadily on his feet.

Beth Carter stared in horror as the shadow seemed to coalesce before her eyes, and then became a tall, if hunched figure that leaned over the man now caught in two powerful hands that literally dripped blood.

"You, little man," the shadow rasped in a voice like stone grinding on stone. "Are going to the police. Confess all if you want to live. If you do not, I will find you. No matter where you hide, no matter who you hide behind, I will find you. And your last moments will not be pleasant," that hollow voice promised before the shadow-man flung himself out the window an instant later, and seemed to just vanish.

"There… There's nothing there," the ten year old boy who rushed to the shattered window exclaimed as the hood just gaped, dropping to his knees as his courage and strength failed as one, and he stared blankly out the window.

Bethany swallowed hard as her son asked, "What was it, mommy? Where did it go?"

They were answers she couldn't give him, or the police, when they finally arrived to ask her the same questions again, and again.

 **~B~**

Cold, gleaming eyes stared through the darkness, watching the streets.

At least he had spared some few innocents needless misery this night.

He looked up at the moon, and remembered childish fantasies, and banal films of nocturnal creatures that waxed and waned with the moon, or stars. He remembered the silly rules and rituals regarding those creatures as set forth by film or fiction, and snorted, his dark amusement a low cough of disdain in the silence around him.

The films had not even been close. Not even close.

Even he could not be sure exactly what had happened to him, or how he had survived it. Still, he had lived through a nightmare that no man should ever have to experience, and live. Or had he? Had he really survived? He still wasn't sure about that point either. Was he really still alive? Or had he died, only to be resurrected as something else that only thought he still lived?

He just wasn't sure. Not anymore. He only knew that so long as he could make such a difference, he would ensure no one else had to suffer as he had. As _she_ had.

He swore that oath not for the first time as his eyes dropped from the gray, sliver of moon that hung over the smog bound city. God, how he hated cities. Always had. But here was the evil. Here was his prey. He had to remain. At least for now.

 _Evil_ had called him. He was bound to answer.

It was the way of the _Hunter_.

 **~B~**

"What do you mean the building isn't clear," James Thomas IV spat as he clenched his fist around the phone. "I was assured the damn thing would be empty this morning. What…? No. No, I have no idea…."

He stopped, listening to the speaker on the other side.

"No. I'll come down myself. This bitch will be made to see reason. I'm sure…."

"Sure about what, Mr. Thomas," a fat man in a stained overcoat asked as his secretary gave him a rueful glance from the now open door.

"The police, Mr. Thomas," she told him anxiously. "I….couldn't get him to wait."

"Detective Bullock," James grimaced as he nodded at the slovenly cop.

The cop only smirked back at him.

"I have to go, Marty. Just hold pat till I get there."

"That could be a while, Mr. Thomas," Harvey Bullock grinned, still chewing on whatever he had last shoved into his mouth. Behind him, his pretty, if silent partner merely stared from the door as if covering him in case he tried something.

"Is there a point to this visit, Detective Bullock," he asked sardonically after hanging up. "Or are you just harassing me again?"

"Funny you should ask," Harvey grinned, pulling off his hat to shove his hand through the thinning hair atop his head before cramming the shapeless hat back atop his head. "See, just this morning, this bloody, bruised, and very frightened scumbag gets dragged into our precinct. You wouldn't believe what he had to say," Harvey told him, giving a sardonic twist of his fat lips.

"I'm sure I wouldn't, since I don't know any….scumbags, as you call them."

"Well, this one sure knew you. And he was singing one nasty little tune, Jamie-boy," Harvey told him. "So, in the interest of public safety, the natural curiosity of the law, and all that, you are coming with us. You can do it easy, or," Harvey trailed off with a smile as he flexed his big fists.

James knew men that underestimated Bullock. The man looked and acted like a pig, and had even less manners. He was also built like a tank, and could shoot like a marksman. You did not cross Harvey Bullock. It was one of the reasons that Gordon had enticed him down to Gotham from his New York City beat. Rumor was, when Harvey left the Big Apple, the local bad boys threw a party.

"On what grounds," James asked coolly, keeping one eye on Detective Montoya. The voluptuous Hispanic cop was one mean bitch herself. She was just sneakier about it. "I don't believe I've ignored any parking tickets lately," he smiled.

"Cute. But you're gonna wish it was just parking tickets before we're done with you."

"I think I should call my lawyers," James decided, not liking Bullock's tone of confidence.

"Call 'em from downtown," Montoya told him, clearly impatient now as she nodded at Harvey. "Let's do this, partner. Before lunch, if you don't mind."

"James Thomas the _Fourth_ ," Harvey mocked his name as he stepped forward, one hand producing a set of cuffs. "You are under arrest for…..well, hell, you know the reason you're under arrest. Just get your pampered ass up, and let's go," Harvey spat, all but willing him to resist. "Just know you have the right to an attorney, while you can still afford one. You also have the right to remain silent, but if you wanna yammer, I'll be sure to take note of every little detail. Got it?"

James was not that great a fool.

"My lawyers are going to tear you apart this time, detective," he promised as Harvey roughly slammed him face down on his own desk, scattering the papers he had been studying for another real estate deal. "This is harassment, pure and…."

"Ah, shaddup," Harvey grunted, shoving him toward the door so hard he almost landed on his knees. If not his face.

"You might as well go home, sugar," Montoya mocked Alena, his very sleek secretary who dressed far better than the plainclothes detective in jeans, and a flannel shirt under her old denim jacket. "Your boss is going to be busy for a long time."

"Cancel all my appointments, Lena," he called as they headed to the elevators. "And be sure Wayne knows why I can't make my meeting. Then get my lawyers on the phone. Tell them I'm being kid….."

The elevator doors cut off anything else he might have said.

"Kidnapped. That is a good one," Harvey snorted as he ignored the startled old man in a rumpled suit already in the elevator.

"Yeah," the dark-haired woman with him snorted. "I've never heard getting arrested being considered as kidnapping."

"First time for everything," Harvey advised her, feigning indifference to James. "You know how these scumbags are. Even the pricey ones aren't much better than the nickel punks you roust down on the docks. They all seem to think they're somehow above the law."

"And they all seem to have overpriced lawyers who think the same way," Montoya said darkly, her dark eyes flashing her own disdain.

"Well, this time, no fancy mouthpiece is gonna let you walk, Jamie-boy. See, our songbird is singing some real nasty tunes, just like I said. But funny how his songs all have your name in 'em."

James frowned. Someone squealed? He'd have their heads. Hell, he'd have their hearts.

"I believe I have the right to face my accusers, detective. I'm pretty sure the fellow you refer to is just an ex-employer, or opportunist, likely trying to extort money from a public figure. I mean, look at any celebrity. They say even that Batman character….."

"You do not want to go there," Montoya warned him as Harvey's face turned dark red.

James wisely refrained from saying any more.

A moment later, they were in the lobby, and he was being shoved past his own security to the waiting police car where the public stopped to gape at him being shoved into the back of the vehicle like a common criminal.

"Enjoy your moment, detectives," he muttered darkly as they climbed into the front of the car. "By tomorrow, I'll own your asses."

"Like I've never heard _that_ one before," Harvey snorted.

 **~B~**

"What do you think," Commissioner Gordon asked Dr. Adam Heart as the noted psychiatrist that had recently come to Arkham Asylum after that Hugo Strange affair closed the file on the man he had in his hands.

"I do believe he's sincere, Mr. Gordon. He obviously saw _something_. Something that traumatized him so much he was willing to confess to crimes going back more than fifteen years," the doctor told him.

"You don't think it's an act?"

"No, commissioner. I'm used to seeing some degree of trauma among certain prisoners that encounter our resident vigilante, and frankly, I thought this was but another of them. In my professional and private opinion, this is no act. Mr. Sanders encountered something so horrific that his mind still cannot conjure a name, or a shape to order his experience. It is….continuing to torment him as a result."

"What about his competence? Would his testimony hold up in a trial?"

"Against himself, or against Mr. Thomas? Frankly, Commissioner Gordon, Ian Sanders is wired so tightly right now, I amazed he's coherent at all. Still, I don't suppose it would do any harm. After all, a condition of his…miraculous escape seems to be fixed in his mind that he _must_ testify. I'm afraid that if we denied him the chance, it could do incalculable harm to his psyche."

"I see. Well, ordinarily, I'd not hesitate. But this is….beyond my purview. I've never seen anyone so genuinely terrified of the dark. We can't even shut out the lights in his holding cell," he exclaimed.

"Yes," Dr. Heart nodded as he headed for the door. "A most…intriguing case."

Even as the door closed, James sensed more than he saw or heard the newcomer.

"You heard," James Gordon asked as he leaned back in his chair, not even looking at the window behind him.

"I heard," came the low, grim tone of a voice he knew well enough after all these years.

"Sounds like you may have competition out there," the commissioner told him. "Again."

"This is something different," the Bat told him as he balanced precariously on the sill of the open window, thirty floors above the hard, unforgiving pavement.

"I don't think I want to hear that," the old cop sighed. "Not from you, at any rate."

"I don't discount Ian Sanders' story," the living shadow in cape and cowl murmured as he studied the file Gordon had handed him. "I've seen enough over the years to know there are things out there that might ordinarily be discounted as hallucinations, or simply delusions by more rational people. To be frank, commissioner, I suspect we may have a genuine supernatural entity visiting Gotham."

"Again," the aging man sighed.

"At least this one seems to be avoiding innocents. It seems focused on protecting them."

"For now. But how do we know that isn't just a coincidence?"

"Four dead thugs, another sent packing with a cryptic warning? Then there were five innocent victims we both know Thomas wanted gone left without a mark on them," the Batman told him bluntly.

"So you think it's connected to Thomas?"

"Possibly. James Thomas has buried enough skeletons in his past to have at least ten demons on his tail. Still, it could just be a random selection on the entity's part. I won't know until I investigate further."

"You do know that Bane is out again," James Gordon told him with a sigh.

"I'm not worried about him," the vigilante replied smoothly, his voice betraying no fear despite the fact that some years ago he had almost died at the hands of that mercenary criminal. "If he shows his face, he will be captured again soon after," the Batman promised curtly.

"You know," James sighed. "It seems the villains in this city only get stronger, and wilier. Even _you_ don't seem to age," the commissioner complained. "How do you….?"

He turned and realized the man was gone. "God, I hate when he does that," he sighed as he picked up the file from the floor where it had been dropped.

Outside the window, there was no sign of the man in cape and cowl. As was his way, the Batman had simply vanished when his purpose had been fulfilled. "I'm getting too old for this stuff," he muttered as he threw the file on his desk.

 _To Be Continued….._


	2. Chapter 2

_I do not own Batman, or any D.C. character named within. I am only using them for a tale written for entertainment purposes only._

 **Batman: Night of the Hunter**

 **By LJ58**

 **2**

"What did you learn," Robin asked as Batman dropped smoothly into the sleek, black vehicle dubbed the Batmobile by some reporter years ago. The name had stuck even though the car had changed many times over as he constantly redesigned it for his unique needs.

"Nothing more than we didn't already know," the grim vigilante told his newest partner in the more colorful garb of red, green, and gold. "I thought Dr. Heart might have some insight into the entity, but he was more impressed with his patient's trauma."

"He's not another Hugo Strange, or Crane is he," Robin grimaced.

"I don't think so. He has legitimate standing in the APA, and has done some outstanding work on the West Coast in psychiatric trauma, and recovery. Several of his published journals show promise. He might even be able to finally crack the Joker's persona."

"Wow, now that sounds downright…scary. Imagine getting very deep into _that_ head."

Batman cast a bleak look toward his newest sidekick as he started the turbines, and sent the Batmobile speeding through the back streets and alleys of Gotham. Robin knew when to be quiet, even when he didn't like it, and said nothing more as his mentor continued to drive seemingly random circles as his mind likely continued to puzzle out the mystery before them now.

When he spoke, he knew his partner had something in mind when he asked, "I want you to do a computer search for me when we get back. Find out if Thomas has buried any business partners, or any personal friends. Say within the past two years."

"Got it."

"Don't be afraid to ask Oracle for help, too. Sometimes she has contacts outside our usual purview."

"I'm just as good as Oracle….. Okay, okay," the young man grimaced at the cool expression aimed his way. "Jeez, you'd think I didn't know a hard drive from a flash drive."

"Just be thorough. Something is up that is definitely outside the usual realm of possibilities. I'm going to contact Dr. Fate in the meantime. He might be able to shed some light on this matter, too."

"You're going to the Watchtower?"

His mentor did not answer. He was guiding the Batmobile through a series of high speed turns designed to lose any tail as they left the city, and took a long abandoned road that was covered by thick foliage from the trees lining it, keeping it free of spy satellite monitoring the region as well.

The Dark Knight was nothing if not careful.

 **~B~**

The shadow flowed over the rooftops, ebbing and surging like a tide on the beach as it moved over the obstacles before it. Only when it slowed, or briefly stopped did it seem to take on a shape. Almost human, but not quite. Then it moved again, and the shape was lost. It moved swifter than a bird in flight, moving over the city until a pattern began to emerge. The opaque eyes watching it noted the pattern almost at once. It continued to watch as thin, almost invisible lips turned down, and watched as the shadow slid down the wall of a building, melting into the deeper shadows of the alley it had chosen.

Seconds later, screams rang out.

The shadow surged forward, drawn by the viciousness of the three teens attacking a lone woman walking home from work in a neighborhood that even some police officers wouldn't walk in alone. The shadow didn't hesitate as he surged around the trio, throwing them back as one as the girl woman looked around in confusion, and then realized her tormentors were now doing the screaming as they were somehow dragged farther and farther into the dark alley where they had tried to drag her.

The former victim scooped up her fallen purse, and ran, not even looking back.

The three teens stopped screaming after a few minutes, but by the time anyone found them, they would be beyond help.

Their bodies, terribly savaged, were nothing compared to the horrific expressions frozen into their visages when they were found.

 **~B~**

The shadows around the huge tower were the type that moved, and his practiced eye moved with them, until he found the specific point where he approached the hidden door.

"I need you," he growled as the caped detective stood facing that wall, heedless of the shadows roiling around him that were designed to protect, or even defend as necessary.

There was a faint glow, and then an ordinary door seemed to appear before him, and then slowly opened.

Batman walked into the more brightly lit room beyond, and kept going.

He had been to Fate's tower before, but it still astonished even him at times when he visited. One never knew what you might find when you visited the very defender of Order on Earth from the very real forces of Chaos out to shatter the globe, and spin reality as men knew it into oblivion.

It was a fight he faced himself every night on a different scale, and that made him respect Dr. Fate's burden, and commitment.

"Welcome, Detective," a figure in blue and gold murmured as the man seemed to appear out of the very air just then as Batman paused to examine an open text. "Oh, I wouldn't bother. That grimoire is written in…."

"Sanskrit. Early 1500s BCE, if I'm not mistaken. Are you studying the Vedas now?"

"I study many things, as must you," the man in the golden helmet said with an appreciative nod. "Still, what brings you to my domain so late, when I know you favor patrolling the streets of Gotham to otherworldly issues?"

"Ironically, I may have an otherworldly issue in Gotham just now," he admitted. "And I may need some help identifying it. Or stopping it."

"Define it," he said.

"I can't. Other than stating that it is obviously dangerous," he went on as he shared his case with Dr. Fate.

"Intriguing. And while suspect, the survivor's account cannot be completely discounted. I shall look into it, and get back to you as soon as I may," he told him.

"As soon as possible. I have the feeling this thing may only be starting. And even if it did target thugs, I would rather not risk it escalating."

"I understand. For now, I can tell you nothing, but I will study the entity, and be in touch once I can say for certain what you may be facing."

"I appreciate any help you can offer," Batman nodded.

"One thing I will say," the grim mage told him.

"Yes?"

"If this is some manner of vengeance demon, or related spirit, then you are likely correct when you felt it was only just starting. That said, it would be extraordinarily dangerous to get in its way. Such entities can be as vicious with those that interfere with its self-defined mandate as with their prey."

"I'm aware of that," he said, having faced the supernatural before now.

"Yes," Fate nodded, and then gestured. "I will let you take your leave now," he said, and waved.

Batman suddenly stood outside the tower, near the Batmobile, and glowered.

There were times when he truly hated mystics, and magic.

Usually because, as helpful as some could be, they were almost always trouble.

Always.

Climbing back into his Batmobile, he fired the engines, and turned back toward Gotham. With any luck, Robin would have found something by now, and they might have more of a lead on whoever was out there, and what they wanted.

Even as he neared Gotham less than an hour later, he heard the police report of three gang members found dead in a back alley.

He had a foreboding sense of dread, and knew without knowing that it was his unseen entity again.

That made an official body count of seven. He still wasn't altogether sure it wasn't actually higher. Not yet.

"Why are you in my city," he grumbled even as he sped toward the crime scene just to be thorough.

 **~B~**

"This is harassment, pure and simple. Entrapment, or something. I don't even know that guy," James complained as the judge pounded his gavel as Ian Sanders kept pointing at James Thomas as his fear-etched visage focused on him as he kept confessing all his crimes even without the lawyer bothering to question him now.

"His fault! His fault," Ian howled as the guards took him away. "You have to believe me. I confessed! I confessed! _Tell it I confessed_ ," he wailed as he was finally carried out of the courtroom.

The judge glanced after the obviously distraught man, and the defense attorney lept to his feet, and declared, "Your honor, that….man is obviously distraught, and obviously not quite stable. I cannot see how we can accept anything he says as pertinent testimony when compared to my client's….."

"Exactly," the stocky James Thomas spat. "I'm a freakin' pillar of the community, and that guy…."

"Mr. Thomas," the judge spat, slamming his gavel down as he eyed him coldly. "Sit down, and shut up," he barked. "Before I find you guilty of contempt of court."

James had the sense to cringe, but dropped back into his chair as his attorney only sighed, and shook his head.

"You were saying, Mr. Vitelli," the judge nodded at the defense attorney.

"Your honor, most of the evidence against my client is purely circumstantial, and we already know how easily certain….vigilante elements try to influence justice in our fair city. Bringing in an obviously distraught, and unstable man who could have been primed to target _anyone_ from the look of him, does not make my client guilty of anything. Except inciting some envy from those who have yet to manage his level of success," he said with a bland smile. "Now, considering there is nothing the state offers in concrete evidence to suggest my client has had anything to do with any criminal undertakings, I suggest for the sake of all concerned that we declare this a mistrial before we end up with a long and costly show that only proves what I have just said."

He sat down, cool and calm, and merely nodded to the judge.

The judge eyed the prosecutor who was scowling as bleakly as anyone ever had.

"Does the state have anything else to add not already displayed," the judge asked.

The man grumbled, then rose to his feet, and said, "Your honor, while Mr. Sanders was obviously distressed, it was more a case of a severely troubled conscience than any other…."

"Enough," the judge said. "Do you have any other evidence, or witnesses that tie Mr. Thomas to these charges," he demanded.

The prosecutor tensed, drew a deep breath, and then sighed as he shook his head.

"No, your honor."

"Then I have no choice but to declare a mistrial, and suggest that next time, Mr. Harding, you bring me genuine testimony or evidence before you drag someone like James Thomas in front of this court. Court dismissed," the judge growled, slamming his gavel down one last time before he simply stood up, and walked out.

He went directly to his quarters, stared at the tall, lanky man with a perennial sneer, and just stared as he pulled off his robes.

"Very good job, yer honor," the man smirked, and tossed an envelope on his desk. "Now, you just keep yer mouth shut, and yer family will stay safe. Get me?"

The judge said nothing as he glared at the man that walked around him, headed for the door.

"What about my son," he demanded as the man put a hand on the door's lever.

The man lifted his watch, and smirked again.

"About now, he's being dropped off at yer house since I didn't have to make that call. Jus' remember. Fair warning," he went on. "What we took once, we can take anytime, though. Yer security jus' ain't that good," the man smirked, and sauntered out without looking back.

The judge swore, and went to his desk to call home.

He all but cried as his wife, crying herself with relief, told him their son had just reappeared without explanation.

The judge eyed the envelope on his desk, and angrily swept it into his waste can.

There were times, he had to admit, he wished that he could aim some of those vigilantes out there in his city's darker shadows. Because he had a very long list of his own that he wouldn't mind seeing torn apart.

 **~B~**

The scream drew Saranada Vitelli out of the bath, and into their bedroom as she pulled a small .380 she kept with her as she nudged the door open.

Her robe half open, her body dripping with soap and water, she gasped as she stared at the bloody ruin of a body on her bed, and realized it was her husband Sol.

She spun around, looking for an attacker, or something, but saw nothing as she felt something roil in her stomach, and she rushed back to the bathroom, barely making the toilet before she vomited up her very expensive celebratory supper from Benzelli's.

Still clinging to her weapon, she carefully returned to the bedroom, but still saw nothing but the grizzly remains of her husband who had been lounging on their bed twenty minutes ago when she went to bathe. Then that hellish scream, and just that quickly…..

She stared around, but saw nothing in the intimately lit room prepared for a little private celebration after the bonus his client had paid him.

She was trembling violently when she reached for the phone, and as she looked down to dial, she never saw the faint, darker than normal shadow that flowed out of the penthouse apartment, and into the night beyond.

 **~B~**

James was standing in the middle of his office about the time Sol Vitelli died, surrounded by nine of his very best lieutenants, and looking furious.

"Look, I don't care if this is Batman, Jr., or whatever. Find him, bury him, and then clear that block. Every day those squatters keep our people from leveling that neighborhood is costing me _millions,"_ he thundered. "Now, get out there, and do your damn jobs. Or I will find someone that will."

"We been looking, boss," the lanky man with a faint sneer drawled. "Word on the street is, the Bat ain't involved, though. This is someone else. Someone that don't mind killing. We just can't find anyone that knows anything. Yet."

"Then keep looking," he spat at his men. "And clear that damned block tonight. I don't care if you have to burn down that hovel with that bitch in it. I want that building clear!"

"Consider it done," the smirking man nodded. "I'll handle that one myself. Joey, you and your boys, hit the usuals, and find out where to find this new wannabe. Once I clear the building, I'll join you. Let's go," the senior man in James' underground enterprise nodded as James just watched them go with a grim expression.

Outside the window, a shadow fluttered, then vanished.

 _To Be Continued….._


	3. Chapter 3

_I do not own Batman, or any D.C. character named within. I am only using them for a tale written for entertainment purposes only._

 **Batman: Night of the Hunter**

 **By LJ58**

 **3**

Batman landed near the building in question as he watched two cars filled with what appeared to be standard thugs pouring out not one block away. Two of them carried large containers of what was likely an accelerant. They were obviously ready to step up their gambit if they were bringing it in before the last tenants had been pushed out.

Discreet, they were not.

He fired his grapple, moving to swing down to intercept them when he heard a scream from the third story window of the obviously targeted building.

Even as he crashed through the window, he noted a man pouring gasoline around a room filled with broken furniture. He rolled across the room, one hard fist slamming into the man's jaw from behind even as he turned, and then caught up the falling gas can before it could spill out anymore.

Sitting the can aside, he eyed the room, and then dropped a foam pellet to absorb the accelerant, and keep an accidental fire from sparking.

He then stepped out into the hall even as he heard men moving below. And several more above.

Apparently, they had sent more than the crew he had just spotted arriving.

He glanced back at the couple in the apartment, and growled, "Get out, now. It's not safe here tonight," even as he raced for the stairs.

Launching himself up with his grapple on the railing rather than run the stairs, he jumped up over the next landing, and eased the safety door open.

He was four men pouring fuel even as one held a small boy in his beefy arms.

Even as he mentally calculated his next move, something surged out of a door, and then jerked the man back into shadows, making him drop the boy who looked around in confusion. Even as the man screamed, a woman rushed from a nearby apartment, a man chasing her, and reached for the boy.

She already held a smaller child in her arms.

The man who had been grabbed stopped screaming, and the other three men now converged on the room, and by location, the woman.

None of them saw the caped figure rushing up behind them.

A hard jab into the broad, beefy back of one man still carrying an open can put the man on his knees, and a second blow drove him to the floor even as the mother gaped at him, eyes round with fear.

"You should go," Batman growled at her as the other two men cursed, and turned on him now, pulling guns as they did.

"My children," she cried, and rushed back into the same door she had emerged from.

He grimaced, but blocked a fist even as another man raised a gun.

Even as long, inky tendrils shot out of the dark room, and grabbed the man to jerk him back into the blackness inside.

The man was still screaming as the last thug just swore, and screamed, "I give up," throwing his gun down, and his hands up.

Batman knocked him unconscious anyway. It wouldn't be the first time someone had tried to dupe him with a false surrender. Or just changed their mind if they thought they had a chance.

He then turned his back on the obvious intruder because his primary concern was the innocents yet to escape the danger here. He didn't doubt for a moment that the men that had come here tonight would not care for a single instant if anyone died. They were the type that wouldn't even bother to hesitate in ensuring they died.

He swept into the room, and saw the living area torn up, and furniture broken. The woman was huddled over a small child that looked unconscious, with a badly swollen jaw. The boy didn't look ten.

Batman's eyes narrowed, and then he swept the apartment, saw no other danger, but realized the children and mother were obviously in over their head.

"You have to leave," he told her, even as he heard the dull whomp of something exploding.

Someone, he realized, had chosen to escalate things. The sounds of their own screaming had likely not helped.

He heard cries from below now, and easily guessed what had happened. Then he felt the heat rising.

"My son," the woman cried as she looked up at him with fear in her eyes.

She had to know what was happening, and Batman well understood the helplessness and fear she likely felt just then as she knelt there surrounded by her children, and evil men.

"Trust me," he said, and scooped him up. "I'll get you all out. Follow me," he said, and went not to the door, but to the rusting fireplace.

"It won't open….!"

His well-placed kick forced the warped ladder to drop, and provided access to the second floor escape. The final ladder, however, was missing.

"What do we do," the woman cried, hugging her baby to her as the two girls clung to her sides.

"Don't worry," he told her, and put a boot up on the broken railing. "You'll all be down safely soon enough," he said as the fire began to swell, smoke now rising out of the first and second floor windows. Even as someone screamed from the roof.

A woman's voice.

He grimaced, and pulled the two girls close, and said, "Hold onto your brother," he told them. "Hold tight," he said as he looked his line around the three of them, the boy still mostly unconscious. "I'm going to lower you down. Just hang on, and everyone will be fine," he assured them, and kicked the broken rail away before he led them to the edge.

"M-M-Mommy," one of the girls whimpered as she looked down.

"Don't worry, baby," the woman told her anxiously. "We're going to be okay."

"Now, you," he said, and just grabbed her the moment the children were down, and stepped off the fire escape as the flames behind them continued to rise. He turned in the same instant the woman cried out, hugging her baby to her all the more, and fired his grabble, securing them, and slowing their descent. The moment his feet touched down, he released her, and eyed the family.

"Go. This block isn't safe tonight," he told her.

The woman and her children all fled, the boy being now fully awake by then, if confused by their location.

He turned to look back toward the roof, and triggered his still anchored grapple, and seemed to fly straight up the side of the burning building even as fire and rescue only then began to make an appearance as Thomas's thugs now began to scatter. Those that had managed to escape. Even as he reached the roof, angling his body so he easily leapt over it from the momentum of his ascent, he noted that not as many who had gone in were leaving.

Just then, though, he wasn't overly worried about those men.

He reached the roof, and saw a woman at the far side looking down, her whimpering audible.

"Come with me," he called out, and the woman turned to stare at him, and screamed again.

He barely evaded the bullet as he realized her eyes weren't on him. They were on a lean, angry man in dark suit who was aiming his gun right at him.

"I swear," the hood growled, "You can't even jaywalk in this damn town any more without one of you masked freaks popping up! Well, I haven't heard you're bulletproof, Bats, so….."

Batman evaded two more shots, and shouted, "This whole building is burning, you idiot. Do you intend to die here, too."

The man laughed as the woman cringed at the one corner of the roof not starting to burn.

"I figure I can still escape. After I take care of you two," he sneered. "I'll bet she can't jump as fast as you," he said, turning his gun on the crying woman.

Batman's batarang his wrist the same instant an inky, black silhouette rose from the smoldering roof just behind him.

"Your guilt screams in my ears," the near-human shadow all but snarled as Batman realized the roof wouldn't last much longer from the sounds of the creaking timbers around them.

The hood emptied his pistol in the face highlighted only by glittering, red orbs, and yet not shot so much as touched it. Then the shadow seemed to collapse down over the howling, furious man, and Batman heard one side of the building starting to give.

He bounded over the suddenly gaping hole where flames blazed upward, and grabbed the screaming woman even as he leapt up, and away from the building, one hand extending to fire his grapple out over the dark streets, and easily swinging them up, and over to another building.

Behind him, something went up with explosive force, as over half the building literally detonated as if loaded with ordinance. Batman reached the far roof, set the pale, shaking woman down, and she backed away from him even as she just whined as she stared at her burning home.

He didn't bother to look back when she abruptly turned, and raced for the rooftop exit, and fled screaming.

Batman, however, wasn't looking at the burning building either.

He turned, noting the slow, pointed rise of a dark shape near him as the shadow now reappeared before him, dark crimson eyes burning into him as if now assessing him.

Batman tensed, his mind running through possibilities even as the inky shadow coalesced before him, and became more humanoid in shape. The burning eyes were the only obvious feature in that beyond black silhouette, though, and that vague slit of a mouth opened slightly, and the hissing, gravel of a voice murmured, "Baaaat….."

"Who are you," he demanded, ruthlessly denying his own fearful reaction to confront yet another enemy.

The shadow chortled a grim, mirthless laugh.

"I am as you, Bat. A guardian. Protector. Defender. Don't you know? I am as you are…. As you will be."

"I am not a killer," Batman growled.

"Sometimes….vermin must be punished. Must be….eliminated. Somethings….there is no choice. You will learn. You will learn. Just as I did."

"I am nothing like you," Batman declared.

The shadow began to drift, breaking apart, and hissed a tittering laugh, "You will be. You will be," and then the shadow was gone.

Batman stood atop the shadowed rooftop, but there was no indication of anything else with him. The entity had just vanished.

Only where it had been, a single, gleaming flash drive lay on the gravel-covered roof, and he had the feeling it was left purposely.

Batman walked over, and lifted the device, and studied it.

No obvious markings. No initials, or clues at what it might contain. Still, if that….creature had left it, he had the feeling it was important. He walked back to the edge of the roof, staring down at the now ruined building that still burned, and considered all the lives lost, and lives nearly lost.

All for one man's greed.

He clenched his fist around the flash drive, and felt his anger surge anew.

He turned, studying every possible venue, and finally spat, "Damn."

Behind, and below him, the old building continued to burn.

Then he leapt once more into the night. His work, he knew, was far from done.

 **~B~**

James walked back into his office the next morning, and smiled, thinking that while he had lost a lot of men, they were hardly important.

No, what was important was that the last obstacle to his vision was finally gone, and he could now claim that last section of the old city as abandoned, and began rebuilding his vision of a new, and prosperous playground for Gotham's elite.

Why be stingy, though. He'd invite the world to his casinos, and first class hotels he would build, and once he finished cleaning out the other refuse from the alleys and streets around his new playground, he'd have the start of his own personal empire. Just as he had envisioned when his uncle, God rot his black-hearted soul, first left him a rat-infested building in that worst part of Gotham.

He was still mentally preparing a suitable speech when he heard someone buzz, and he eyed his intercom, and glowered.

He had told his idiot secretary that he didn't want to be disturbed this morning.

"What now," he demanded even as the door burst open, and none other than Bruce Wayne, local billionaire, and eccentric philanthropist stepped into the office.

"That's my fault, James," the smiling man in the perfectly tailored suit that even James couldn't match smiled his perfect smile. "I told Alena I wanted to surprise you since we missed our appointment the other day."

"Ah, well, I hope the news of my unfortunate harassment didn't deter you from my proposal…."

"Actually, James, that was not even on my mind. What is, however, is the plans you have for that area of Gotham. You do know you'd be putting a lot of people on the street, not only making them homeless, but driving them into poverty….or worse….by building such a resort in the heart of what has always been homes, and apartments for our city's less fortunate."

"What I'm doing, Bruce, is gentrifying the city, and bringing back a vitality and prosperity…."

"That will only be shared by a very relative few. Sorry, James. I just cannot condone being part of that kind of plan. So I have to admit we're about to become competitors," the smug rich man drawled.

For as connected as James was, he knew he was nowhere near Wayne's status. It was his hope that this gambit would elevate him, though. If not help him surpass the smug, rich boys like Wayne, and his Old Money.

"What do you mean….competitors?"

"Didn't you know," Bruce asked. "I recently came into a lot of stock options for Myriad, Inc. that gave me controlling interest of their board," he declared, naming a certain real estate venture that James was exploiting himself. "When they heard my plans, though, they couldn't wait to get involved."

"What….plans," James asked with a very faint rasp as he sat back in his chair, eyeing the smug man who was eyeing his office as if sizing it up for his own.

"Why, the complete rebuilding of Old Town, of course. New apartment buildings, area clinics, and even a shopping mall for area residents. It will take time, but in the meantime, it means jobs, construction, and a lot of new money coming in. Just what you planned, of course, but it benefits the entire city, rather than a select few," Bruce smiled.

"Damn it, Wayne! You can't do this!"

"Actually, I can. And the truth is, I'm here to make you an offer."

"What….offer," James demanded, wishing he knew what happened to his right hand man. The man usually got the job done, and always came back with a smug laugh when asked if there were any problems. When he heard of the fire last night, he was sure his problems were finally over.

But if Wayne had moved in, and taken over, it was going to be a lot harder to force him out.

He was Gotham's own golden boy, after all, damn him.

"You can sell your remaining shares and holdings," Bruce now turned to eye him firmly, "Or, I'll just wait and see what's left to salvage after the police arrive."

"Police? What police? I've already settled with…."

"What'd I say, Jamie-boy? What'd I say," Harvey growled as he and his annoying partner just pushed into the office as if on cue. "Told you it wasn't over," the big man smirked as he pulled out a set of handcuffs he dangled in front of James' face.

"Sorry, Mr. Wayne," Officer Montoya told him, "But we're going to have to postpone your meeting again."

"Quite all right," he smiled blandly. "I always support the law, and its fine representatives," he declared.

"Yeah, right," Harvey growled.

"Wait. What are the charges? Why are you even here?"

"Guess you didn't hear," Harvey grinned as he shoved him face-first across his desk, easily cuffing him. "See, we got a primo witness this time. Ever hear of Harry Timms?"

James gasped.

"Seems he had a change of heart last night. Turned himself in the minute the first officers showed up at your little impromptu barbecue, pal. And he sang like a canary all night. So, Mr. James Thomas the IV," Harvey growled as he jerked him up, and shoved him toward the door. "You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent," he said, beginning his rights as Rene just eyed Bruce who was eyeing the businessman as if he might like to take a swing at him.

"You okay, Mr. Wayne," the detective asked him.

"Quite well. I was just wondering what happened to all those people that were displaced last night."

"Displaced," Harvey muttered. "What a fancy way of saying shoved into the streets," he spat, and shoved James out of his own office.

Bruce didn't reply to that, but merely followed them out of the office, and smiled blandly at Alena. "It seems I wasn't in time after all," he told the pretty secretary. "Could you find out who manages Mr. Thomas' affairs when he's….unavailable, and have him contact me," he asked as the detectives disappeared into the elevator with their prisoner.

"Of course, Mr. Wayne," the young woman smiled. "I'll have to contact him, but I'm sure Mr. Peterson would love to speak to you," she assured him.

"Capital," he beamed. "I'll be looking forward to your call. Until later, then," he waved carelessly as he left.

And his expression changed instantly the moment he was in the elevator alone.

"Now," he murmured. "Just a few more lose ends."

 **~B~**

James Thomas IV looked horrified when the gavel came down, and the judge sentenced him to twenty years without parole.

No bail.

And no chance of appeal from the look in the vindictive man's eyes.

Even as he sit in jail, he had heard that Wayne had all but gutted Myriad, and turned it into another profitable subdivision of his own global empire. The new neighborhood was already being rebuilt, and he had even heard that all those displaced by his efforts were being promised new homes at the same rents. Meanwhile, they were either being housed by Wayne's charities, or were joining the construction crews already cleaning out a small corner of the old city as they tried to reclaim just a little more territory for the families who had always been there.

James was disgusted, but there was nothing he could do.

He had already heard that his second kidnap attempt against the judge's family had been thwarted by Batman himself this time. His men were already in jail, and all but throwing him under the boss.

He had still not heard why Harry had turned on him. He hadn't heard about that other vigilante out there, either.

But he wasn't finished. He still had one more card to play.

If nothing else, he had enough dirt on certain powerful men that he could either ensure he came back out on top, or dragged a lot of people down with him.

Even as he was considering how to best use his information, his cell wall seemed to shimmer, and something black, and inky seemed to lunge toward him.

James never even had time to scream.

 _To Be Concluded….._


	4. Chapter 4

_I do not own Batman, or any D.C. character named within. I am only using them for a tale written for entertainment purposes only._

 **Batman: Night of the Hunter**

 **By LJ58**

 **4**

"They found him like this at bed check," James Gordon told Batman. "I'm assuming it's your competitor again?"

Batman eyed the desiccated, almost unrecognizable body, and simply stared.

"We both know it was him. Or it," he said.

"When you say it," the commissioner asked uneasily.

Batman's level gaze assessed his longtime friend, and nodded.

"Just that. It is a genuine supernatural entity. I still haven't ascertained what drew it to Gotham, but I am working on learning what drives it, and hopefully what will rid us of it," he told the weary man in a shapeless suit.

"Do me a favor, figure it out fast," James Gordon sighed as they both left the cell. "This is worse than…."

"Than…?"

"Give me a minute," the somber police commissioner sighed. "Just…."

He turned, and frowned as he realized the corridor was impossibly empty.

"Typical," he rasped, and instinctively reached for a pipe he no longer carried. "Damn it," he growled, and headed for the exit, knowing the coroner was going to have trouble with this corpse, too.

He still wasn't sure how he was going to write it up.

Or explain it to the mayor.

 **~B~**

"Have you found anything?"

Robin turned from the impressive array of crays that comprised the legendary Batcomputer, and grimaced.

"Does bad news and worse news sound familiar?"

"Explain," Batman said even as the Batmobile's cooling turbines faded away in the background as his mentor approached him, and pulled back his cowl.

Not that Bruce Wayne's face was any less grim than his heroic alter ego.

Sometimes, even Robin wasn't sure where Batman's mask began, or ended.

"I collaborated with Oracle just to be thorough, like you said. We didn't find any other indications of our shadowy vigilante anywhere else. So unless he's new, he managed to keep his activities quiet until now. We have found no less than four hundred possible archetypes that might fit the patterns you indicated. Only two of them in our region."

Batman mused on that many vindictive spirits, and tried not to imagine them out there running loose.

"Go on."

"None of them cross with Mr. Thomas' path. He's buried a lot of people, but usually the type you don't mind burying anyway. I mean, sure, a lot of innocent people got shoved out of his way, sometimes forcefully, but I couldn't find anyone that might have had a personal grudge. Well, nothing that would explain our shadow."

"Who are the two archetypes?"

"One is obvious," Robin told him. _"Joker,"_ he actually shuddered, knowing everyone currently thought the madman dead in the wake of his last rampage. Batman, however, as usual, wasn't so convinced.

"And the other," Batman asked.

Robin sighed, and looked back at him only then.

"You. You're the only other person to fit the archetypes you gave me. Parents mur….."

"I know what I am," Batman growled. "We obviously aren't seeing the proper parameters for our search. I'll call Fate again. You might as well retire."

"There is someone…."

Batman turned and eyed him again just as he was about to go deeper into the cave.

"Yes?"

"What about someone like Ivy? I mean, she's all elemental, and all. Almost like Swamp Thing, or guys like him. Wouldn't they be connected to the….weird stuff, too?"

Batman stared at him for a few moments, and then nodded.

"That's a valid consideration. Follow that line of reasoning tomorrow. For now, you still have a life, and school. Go."

Robin grumbled, but headed for the hidden lift back to Wayne Manor.

"I'll tip Oracle on it, too," he said as he left, but wasn't sure if Batman had heard him.

Then again, Batman always seemed to know everything at times. It was weird to see him looking for answers, when usually he already had them.

Batman went into his archives, a chamber filled with souvenirs of his early adventures, and which now housed a library filled with both criminal and arcane lore.

He was still searching through both when he felt a tingling at his back, and spun around, one hand already pulling his cowl down even as a golden aura exploded before him, and Fate himself stepped out of the light.

"Have you found anything," Batman asked without preamble.

"Perhaps. Still, I sense you have encountered….something. Haven't you?"

"I met the shadow night before last," Batman nodded. "He, or it, is definitely not human."

"You are so certain?"

"Amorphic, red eyes, no real physical shape. It was also immune to fire, or gunfire. It apparently also radiated something that inspired terror in its victims even before it touched them."

"Not you," Fate asked curiously in his bland, hollow tone.

"You know that I have only one fear, and it's already under control," Batman growled.

"Of course," Fate nodded, knowing Batman's motivations well enough. "Still, I can tell you, there is nothing of Chaos about the aura I sensed touching you. It is, in fact, something far more primal. And human."

"So….supernatural?"

"Obviously. Do you know of the onryo and goryo?"

"Japanese spirits of vengeance. Not always on the side of the angels, but always out to balance the books at any cost."

"Essentially," Dr. Fate nodded. "I believe you have something similar here. One that likely fulfilled its own personal vengeance, and continued to exist in this realm in spite of settling its own debts."

"That happens?"

"More often than you would think," Fate told him.

"He… It told me that we were the same," Batman admitted. "That I am what he was, and would become."

"You must know that there are some who think you too extreme. Too….committed to your own crusade," Fate told him. "Sometimes, you can become so fixated…."

"If I thought Gotham would be safe, I would have retired years ago," Batman growled. "I'm not here for my own motives. I never was, Fate. I am here to save my city. Not murder anyone I feel deserves it."

"Indeed," Fate murmured. "Still, one must be wary when you approach the abyss…."

"Don't quote adages to me. Just tell me if you have something that can help."

"Just one thing. If this spirit is drawn here by the injustice it likely feels compelled to address, you must assure it that you are, in fact, what it thinks. That you will deal with your city, and your enemies, in your own way. If it accepts that word, it will depart."

"When you say depart…."

"Such spirits are driven by the human heart, and all its passions, Batman. Even a lord of Order cannot fathom such depths. It may depart this realm, or simply this city. The question is, can you convince it that you are what Gotham needs. That you are all that Gotham needs."

"Are you saying you cannot simply banish it?"

"As I said, some things are beyond even a Lord of Order. Consider, this spirit may well have a purpose neither of us may yet see. Is it then our right to decide its ultimate destiny be cut short because we find its methods….distasteful?"

"You are only reminding me why I loathe magic," Batman grumbled.

Fate gestured, and a portal appeared behind him as the man simply stared, and finally stated, "I have come to feel you loathe a great many things, Batman. That does not cause them to be unnecessary at times. As even you must know."

Batman glowered at the now empty space behind him, and shook his head.

No help at all.

Sometimes, the most powerful members of the League were more a hindrance than anything else.

Amazing, too, how blind some of those more powerful members could be.

Clark came to mind in that regard, too.

Even as he turned, he spotted Alfred carrying a tray toward a nearby table.

"I thought you might wish refreshments, Master…."

"Alfred, don't move," Batman ordered as he eyed his faithful friend, and companion.

Alfred frowned, but knowing his employer well enough, tensed as he stood there, and tried not to stare.

"Have I something on my jacket," he asked dryly even as he felt something behind him close to him.

Batman scowled as the shadow seemed to rise right out of the hard rock, and towered over the butler.

"Why are you here," Batman demanded, staring past Alfred at the now towering, gaunt figure with burning red eyes.

"Why am I anywhere," the shadow rasped in a low, gritty gravelly voice. "As ever, I am drawn. Don't you know this?"

"You can tell me that better than I," Batman shot back, and stepped toward him. "Alfred, leave."

"But, sir….."

"Go," he snapped, his eyes never leaving the entity before him.

"As you say, sir," Alfred sighed, and walked away, gasping as he glanced back to see the humanoid shadow only then. His only response was a very controlled, "My word!"

"I felt your call, Bat," the shadow said as he neared him only after Alfred had departed.

"Did you? And do you know why I….called?"

"I believe I can guess," the shadow growled. "As I said, you are as I. As I was. As I am now as you will be."

"So you say."

"So I say. You share the same drive. The same need for vengeance….!"

"Justice," Batman hissed.

"They are often the same. As you will learn."

"I don't believe that."

"You will."

Batman said nothing to that.

"Still, because you are as I, I suspect you want me out of your….hunting grounds."

"You unsettle my city. I protect Gotham. I don't need your help."

"I felt you did."

"Is that why you killed Thomas? Even though he was in jail."

"He was about to make a move that would have done far worse than he had. He would have cost the lives of countless innocents, and destroyed all you intend to build. I could not allow that."

"You don't think I wasn't ready for that move?"

"Were you," the shadow sneered.

Batman took a daring step forward.

"I was," he spat back. "And you undermined not only Thomas, but my own ploy. I could have used his attempted coup to uncover, and undermined all those that still supported him, and tried to continue his madness. Instead, you killed the man, and now all his lackeys have no reason to come out, and expose themselves. So, well done. You just set me back weeks. Maybe months."

The shadow grumbled, its edges loosing solidity as it seemed to shiver.

"It is still best to simply excise the guilty," the shadow all but pouted.

"Understand me," Batman growled himself now. "I know how easy it is to kill. I know it is a quick solution to certain problems. But that doesn't always solve the true problems such men create. You rushed in, killed over a dozen men, and then what? You still left people hurt, homeless. How many innocents were still badly injured while you sought your vengeance the other night? How many burned to death while you focused on your guilty? If you aren't saving the innocents first, then you're aren't really avenging anyone," Batman shot. "You're just another killer. Another problem. And I don't want you in my city."

The shadow shivered again, grumbling even lower, and sounding more than angry.

"I see," the shadow finally growled. "I was too early. You're not ready yet. But you will be. You will be," the shadow said, and melted away. "I will return when you are ready."

"Then you will never return," Batman snapped.

"I think I will. I think you'll be the one to call me, too. I know," the shadow hissed just before it vanished.

Batman glared at the spot where it had stood, and scowled.

"Sir," Alfred appeared on cue just then, looking around a turn in the chamber. "Is it over?"

"For now," Batman murmured, still eyeing the spot the shadow had stood somberly.

"Do you think that he's truly gone, sir," Alfred asked as a weary, battered Bruce Wayne slumped in a chair, eyeing the news that naturally misinterpreted everything that had gone on the past few days. Or nights.

"I don't know, Alfred," he admitted. "Nothing human could done what it does, but then, I don't think that creature was human. If he is one of Fate's Onryo, it may still be out there. Watching. And waiting."

"For what," the longtime friend and servant of the Wayne family asked.

"That's a very good question, Alfred," he murmured, not truly seeing the colorful digitally-enhanced images dancing before his eyes just then as he glanced to the computer where Robin's earlier research was still displayed. "That's a very good question."

Alfred said nothing as Batman, ignored the hour as ever, simply sat down, and went back to work.

 _End…..?_


End file.
